#121. Head and Feet
One of the very first things I learned when I arrived in Albania 25 years ago was this: Kush s'ka kokë, ka këmbë.
Whoever taught it to me probably thought they were simply passing along an Albanian proverb. Little did they know they were handing me a life companion.
It means, "Who doesn't have a head has feet." In other words: think before you act.
And boy, do I mutter that to myself more often than I'd care to admit.
Usually it's after I've climbed the stairs only to discover I left my glasses downstairs. Or driven halfway across town before realizing the document I needed is still sitting on the kitchen table. Or settled into bed only to remember the lights are still on downstairs.
Kush s'ka kokë, ka këmbë.
At first, I thought it was simply a clever way to tease someone who was forgetful. Albanians have a marvelous gift for teasing each other.
But over the years, I've come to believe the proverb isn't really about memory. It's about mindfulness. It's about the pause between impulse and action. The moment when we stop long enough to ask, Is there a better way?
As we get older, I've noticed that many of the extra miles we walk have nothing to do with our feet.
We walk emotional miles by avoiding conversations we know we need to have. We walk relational miles by trying to fix problems that don't belong to us. We walk professional miles by saying yes before we've stopped to ask whether we have the time, energy, or desire.
We walk unnecessary miles because we've always done things a certain way, even when a wiser path is waiting patiently beside us.
Experience alone doesn't make us wiser. If it did, birthdays would guarantee wisdom. And we all know how well that works.
Instead, wisdom grows when experience teaches us to notice our own patterns. The lessons that keep arriving in different disguises. The moments when determination quietly turns into stubbornness. The times we confuse working harder with living better.
One of the gifts of aging is that we begin to recognize those patterns sooner. We pause. We ask different questions. We choose differently.
I think that's what the Albanian proverb has been trying to teach me all these years. Not simply to remember my glasses. But to remember to use my head before wearing out my feet.
This week, notice your own extra miles. They may not involve forgotten keys or another trip upstairs. They might be a commitment you've outgrown. A burden you've carried too long. A problem you've been solving the hard way simply because that's how you've always solved it.
Before you take the next step, pause for just a moment. Ask yourself: Is there a wiser path?
Every now and then, the answer will save you a few steps. And every once in a while, it might change the direction of the entire journey.
